


Etc.

by taze



Series: Counting [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: A confusing combination of smut and awkward interactions, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, PV universe, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:35:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6648268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taze/pseuds/taze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Would you like to stay?”</p><p>An epilogue to One, two, three</p>
            </blockquote>





	Etc.

**Author's Note:**

> First, if you haven't read One, two, three, you should probably start there. It's not completely necessary, but it will be very helpful.
> 
> Second, I have no excuse or proper explanation for whatever this is. I've never attempted to write smut before, so I wanted to try, but then it got completely out of control. It's unedited, because I kind of reached a fuck point with it (no pun intended) and decided if I didn't post it soon, I might actually go insane. If you see anything that needs fixing, please let me know.
> 
> Like I said, my first time attempting anything like this, so if you liked it, hated it, felt kind of ambivalent but mostly confused, got bored and had to get a snack partway through, leave a comment and please let me know. But be gentle, it's my first time ;)
> 
> Without further ado, I present to you gratuitous PV smut. Please enjoy.

“Would you like to stay?”

Bridgette’s eyes widen, and then she nods her head quickly, just a small but eager movement. Then she seems to catch herself, and her eyes become a little more guarded. “Are you…?”

Felix looks down at her, raising an eyebrow. He’s asking her to stay the night, and after all of that, it seems obvious what he wants. She’s free to deny him, of course, but either way, he does want her to stay. So instead of being helpful and answering her question, he leaves her to find her own answer as he turns to open the door to his room, pulling the now stammering girl inside. 

“F-f-f-felix! Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

“I’m only asking you to stay. Anything else that happens is up to you,” he finally answers, closing the door with a soft click. The room is darker than the hallway, the only light coming from a the moonlight streaming in through a small window, but even as his eyes adjust to the low light, Felix can see a sense of stubbornness settle in her eyes.

“Felix,” she says, calmly but firmly.

“Yes?”

“Are you asking me to have sex with you?”

“I am not against the option.”

“ _ Felix _ ,” she almost groans, and he knows she’s annoyed by his evasive answers. He continues them anyway.

“Bridgette.”

“Felix Agreste.”

“Bridgette Cheng.”

“You’re really going to make me say it out loud?” Her voice is incredulous, as if she didn’t expect this level of childishness from Felix. He didn’t really expect it either, but he’s rolling with it.

“Consent is very important.”

“That’s not why you’re doing this, and we both know it.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

She sighs and looks up at him, hands on her hips. “Felix Agreste, if this night does not involve at least one orgasm I am going to be slightly disappointed.”

“Slightly?”

“Cuddling is a close second, and this is moving kind of fast. I’d understand if you don’t want to.”

“Bridgette.” Felix cannot believe that she is still saying things like that. He steps closer to her, and she takes an instinctive step back, ending up pressed against the door. He looms over her, using his height as an advantage. “I want to. There is no question that I want to.”

“Can you blame me for being cautious? You’ve been my fantasy since I was in collège.” She looks off to the side, embarrassment coating her features.

Felix pauses. Normally he would change the subject, because talking about her embarrassing crush and his vehement rejections of her ended them in an awkward place, but with where they are now, they can’t ignore the past forever. So instead of changing the subject, he murmurs in her ear, “Tell me about that.” The air shifts from uneasy and unsure, snapping into a completely different kind of tension.

Her head whips back to look at him, her eyes wide with alarm. “What?”

“You said I was your fantasy. Tell me.”

“W-well,  _ those _ came later.”

Felix leans down and captures her lips in a kiss. Just a brief touch, and then he’s pulling away again. She leans up to try to catch him again, but he leans back just the briefest amount to keep her from being able to touch him. “Tell me,” he repeats again, softly. “Pick your favorite.”

Bridgette goes pink, but she quietly starts, “They all started with you kissing me, out of blue.” He looks at her expectantly, and so she quietly elaborates. “Just reaching down and cupping my face and softly pressing our lips together.”

Felix swoops down, kissing her again. A soft press of the lips, and then he pulls back just a centimeter and whispers against her lips, “And then?”

She blinks up at him, meeting his serious gaze with confusion. “And then you’d kiss my jaw, a-and down my neck…”

As she speaks, Felix follows her words with precision, lavishing her with attention while listening attentively. He wants to bite down, to suck at her smooth skin and leave proof of his being there, but she doesn’t tell him to, so he doesn’t. As his lips hover at the base of her neck, he can’t help the small smile at the thought that there would be plenty of time for that later. His eyes flick up to Bridgette, who is staring at him dazedly with a fierce blush still on her face. He doesn’t say anything this time, just raises his eyebrows as his lips ghost against her collarbone.

“And then… You’d kiss down my chest, unbuttoning my shirt as you go.” She says this with obvious hesitance, and they both glance down to her shirt, which has no buttons.

Felix leans up so his mouth is directly by her ear. “I appreciate your honesty, Bridgette,” he purrs, and doesn’t miss the shiver that courses through her at her name. His hand finds its way to the bottom of her shirt, toying with the edge of the fabric. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I can’t match your fantasy completely.” He slowly pulls the fabric up, and his other hand slips up her shirt and presses against her lower back, pulling her away from the door just enough so that her shirt can come off. 

“Well,” Bridgette starts, voice breathy with anticipation, her hands reaching down to help remove her shirt, “you could probably make it up to me.” They pull her shirt over her head, and Felix takes a moment to drink in the sight before him as Bridgette throws her top off to the side. His eyes have adjusted to the light by now, and he takes time to let his eyes roam over her lacy bra and flushing chest, committing the sight to memory.

“I would like nothing more,” he murmurs quietly. And then, “Where were we?”

“Down my chest,” supplies Bridgette, more confident now after seeing the obvious hunger in Felix’s eyes as he took her in. He immediately bends down and places his lips against her collarbone, and slowly moves down, leaving opened mouth kisses in a trail to the top of one of her breasts, and Bridgette has to fight not to squirm under his intimate attentions. He stops at the edge of her bra and changes course, following along the edge down into her cleavage. He stops right above the band, leaving one last kiss in the center of the dip between her breasts and looks up at her again, patiently.

She stares down at him, lips parted and struggling to breathe properly, but she gulps and continues. “Next you would usually go... lower.”

Felix drops to his knees in one fluid motion, his hands resting on her hips and he looks up at her again, his gaze intense. Bridgette feels like she might burn from it, or maybe that’s just the blush staining her cheeks. His hands make quick work of her button and zipper, and then he’s pulling her jeans down over her hips without ever breaking eye contact. Bridgette wants to look away, but she also doesn’t want to miss a single moment of Felix Agreste on his knees, following her every instruction. He’s supposed to be recreating her fantasy, but he’s really just creating a new one.

She kicks her shoes off and quietly steps out of her jeans and he pushes them to the side, and then he’s staring at her, and heat coils in her stomach due to his proximity. She’s already wet, and she can pinpoint the moment Felix realizes that she’s soaked through her underwear just from him kissing her. He nuzzles her inner thigh, then looks up at her and sends her a devilish grin, and oh god, that is not helping her situation. Has she ever seen that look on his face before?

Bridgette kind of wishes she had worn something nicer, but she hadn’t been expecting to end her night this way, so she hadn’t bothered. But Felix certainly doesn’t seem to mind, so she has no room to complain. 

Felix clears his throat and Bridgette’s attention is sucked back to him, and she realizes he’s waiting to hear where her fantasy travels next. “I… Usually the fantasy ends there,” she admits guiltily. 

“Here?” he asks, and his hot breath washes over her as he lets a small amused huff out of his mouth, and Bridgette’s knees begin to feel weak. “I would think you would go further.”

“I, uh… I don’t usually make it any further.”

Felix’s thumb traces circles on her hip, and he hums contemplatively. “I’ll just have to extrapolate, then.” 

He pins her hips against the door with one hand, and the other hovers just above the waistband of her underwear. He hooks two fingers in the waistband, and then he’s pulling them down and out of the way. She steps out of them with shaking legs, and Felix stares at the newly uncovered territory before him. Bridgette shifts uncomfortably with his unabashed staring, and he finally moves, bracing her with the hand on her hip and shifting closer, until he’s directly below her. Bridgette tenses, nerves causes her to clench her legs shut on impulse, and Felix almost growls with being denied this when he was so close. He instead pulls himself back, looking up at Bridgette, who is red once again and refusing to meet his eyes.

“Bridgette,” says Felix, his free hand feathering touches up her inner thigh. “Do you want to stop?”

“No. No, d-don’t.”

“Then…?”

“Give me a moment.”

Felix nods, but doesn’t let the moment go to waste. He instead lets his free hand find its way to her other hip, fingertips trailing over her skin as it moves up. His hands move in tandem tracing nonsense shapes along her hipbones, and Bridgette sucks in a deep breath, the stimulation making her skin jump. But soon the shooting adrenaline of his touch fades to a soothing pattern.

“How are you so relaxed with all of this?” she sighs out as she finally relaxes into his hands, legs edging open again.

“I’m not,” Felix says simply. He has next to no idea what he’s doing, but he is very eager and much better at hiding his nerves.

“Oh,” she responds dumbly.

Felix changes his hold on her hips, idly dragging the tip of his nail along her hip and inching down and then back away. “Bridgette? May I?”

She squeaks when he says that, but manages to quietly respond, “P-please feel free.”

So he finally does. Felix grips her hips and presses her up and back against the door, and then he ducks under her and drags the flat of his tongue across her slit. She stifles a moan at the electric feeling, her eyes fluttering shut and her hands bracing against the door. He repeats the motion, and then presses himself closer to her, and licks a long stripe one more time, the tip of his tongue barely delving between her slick folds. Bridgette’s knees go weak, but Felix’s hands have a strong hold on her and keep her exactly where she is. 

His tongue circles up, exploring for a moment before he finds her clitoris, and he gives it an experimental flick with his tongue. Bridgette’s hiss is somewhere between pain and pleasure, so instead of repeating the action he swirls his tongue just around it several times before moving back down. He licks one more stripe before finally pressing his tongue into her wet heat, and the whimper he earns from Bridgette burns into his memory. He releases one hip and pulls back, replacing his tongue with the longer, slender length of his finger, and moves back to focusing on her clit, tongue circling but never quite touching. He moves his finger in and out of her slowly, reveling in the feeling of her walls clenching around him. 

“Felix, please, p-please,” she whimpers, and Felix can only guess what she wants. 

He adds a second finger and her moan of satisfaction tells him he guessed right. He continues thrusting in and out, returning his mouth’s attention to her clit as well, and soon she’s shaking above him, panting out tiny happy noises. He can feel her legs shaking as she gets closer to climax, so he moves faster, his fingers almost relentless as they enter her. The moan that tears from her throat as she finally spills over the edge has Felix gulping guiltily, and he has to stifle his own groan in response to the sound. Bridgette is an adorable, innocent girl, and right now, with the view of her coming undone on his fingers, naked above him but for her bra, making sounds that he would never be able to forget, Felix feels like he’s the one sinning, corrupting her innocence. The idea grips him and reminds him of his own ever-growing problem, but he just swallows heavily and focuses on her. She’s the center of his world right now. He pulls back to watch her face, but his fingers continue their motion, slowing down as she rides out the aftershocks.

Felix removes his fingers and licks his lips, looking up at Bridgette panting above him, chest flushed as it heaves. She slowly starts sliding down the door, and he helps her to the ground for a soft landing. He sits, still between her legs, and she leans back against the door, eyes closed as she breathes.

He gives her a moment, and then he leans forward and tucks his head into the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms around her torso. She responds in kind, her eyes finally opening, and she looks down at the boy in her arms with reverence. Her hands slowly wind their way into his hair, stroking gently. 

“We’re not done yet, are we?” Bridgette asks quietly, and Felix smiles against her skin.

“No, I don’t think so,” he answers just as quietly. “But we’ve already filled your quota.”

She tugs on his hair at that, as a punishment for his teasing, but the noise that he lets slip out changes the playful movement into something very different. She stills for a moment, and then whispers, almost in awe, “Felix, are you-”

He freezes, tensing in her arms. “No.”

“But you just-”

Felix pulls back, away from her hands, and stares aggressively off to his right. “No.”

Bridgette’s eyes flick down, just for a second, but Felix doesn’t miss the movement. He shifts away, but it’s too late. She’s staring at him- or more specifically, the tent in his pants- with the same look of hunger in her eyes that he keeps glimpsing.

“Felix,” she calls out to him, her voice pitching low. When she reaches out to him, he moves back, and she frowns. She leans forward, and then suddenly he’s standing, turned away from her. She stares up at him, blinking dumbly, and then he’s walking away from her, and she is  _ not _ having that. “Felix,” she repeats, standing up herself before suddenly feeling some sense of modesty hit her. She grabs her underwear and tugs it back on as she speaks. “Felix, you can’t be running away right now.”

He doesn’t respond to her, and just keeps walking away, so she follows him. “You’re not allowed to be embarrassed that you have a boner!” Felix flinches as she says the word, but Bridgette is merciless. “You literally just fingered me against a door, you’re allowed to have a boner.”

He groans as she speaks, covering his face. The space isn’t that big, but his main objective seems to be more ‘walk away from Bridgette’ than ‘walk towards somewhere’. Bridgette feels like the situation is reminiscent of their younger days, with her relentless pursuing him as he eagerly tried to escape, but the biggest difference now is that she’s not wearing clothes and he’s trying to hide a boner, and so in the end, this situation is nothing like before.

“I can’t imagine it’s easy walking with an erection,” Bridgette pipes up. And then, “You were being all confident and sexy a moment ago, why are you running from me?” When Felix still doesn’t respond, she tries, “I don’t care what your penis looks like!”

That finally gets a response out of him, and he turns around and grabs the top of her head, keeping her at arm’s length. She smiles up at him, and happily notes that his face is definitely blushing. “Stop talking.” His voice is frustrated, his jaw clenched. But he doesn’t seem angry, so Bridgette pushes just a little further.

“Well, you running away had already ruined the mood. I figured I couldn’t do any more damage.”

He drops his hand, bringing it to cover his face again. Bridgette takes her chance. She takes one step back and then runs towards him, tackling him back onto the bed he had stopped in front of. She’s smaller than him, but she knows how to throw her weight around, and within moments she has him pinned beneath her, knees planted firmly against the bedspread on either side of his chest. Felix, too stunned to resist properly, doesn’t come back to his senses until it’s too late, and he’s stuck with Bridgette smiling victoriously above him. His hands settle on her waist almost on reflex, but when his fingers brush along her bare skin, he drops his hands as if burned. He looks up at her as if just seeing her for the first time, and she smiles down at him, waving cheekily. “Can’t run now,” she informs him, as if he didn’t already know.

“I wasn’t running.”

“Felt a little bit like running…” Bridgette pauses, looking down at him searchingly. “Do you not want to do this, or are you just embarrassed?”

Felix sighs, hands fisting in the sheet as if trying to keep himself from touching her. “I…”

Bridgette slides backwards, just a little, but Felix immediately tenses. She pretends not to notice and asks, “You…?”

It’s almost a complete role reversal from before, and she kind of wants to laugh at it. Though Felix is less of a blushing mess, and more of a stony faced asshole, if he wants this as much as he claimed, she’s not going to let shyness take over. Or maybe it’s more of an inability to let others show him kindness. Or being scared of showing vulnerability. Bridgette blinks as the realization hits her. He had no problem reducing her to a shaking mess, but he couldn’t put himself in the same situation without embarrassment. But if it’s about her… 

That may not be the whole story, but Bridgette can make it easier on him. She’s not entirely sure where the confidence is coming from, maybe it was just because he’d already made her come once, but she’s going to take charge of this. Before she speaks, Felix watches her eyes harden in a way that he’s learned means she’s about to take charge in a way that usually has him watching with interest. Right now, it almost has him trembling with something a little bit more intense than just interest.

“Felix,” she asks, letting her voice get breathy with want. “Please?” She punctuates the question by sliding herself the critical inches back until she’s sitting snugly on his crotch. Felix freezes under her again, looking up with wide eyes. She rolls her hips slowly, looking down at him demurely. “I don’t know what your problem is, but I know that at least one of your problems,” she punctuates that by pressing down just a little harder as she shift her hips, “is one I want to help with. Let me?”

He groans, and she can’t really tell if it’s a frustrated groan or thanks to the movements of her hips, but he’s pushing himself into a sitting position and wrapping himself around her and she decides this is a good development. She shifts so she’s settled in his lap with her legs wrapped around his waist, and twines her arms around his neck. He looks at her with an unreadable look in his eyes, so she just smiles at him before grinding down, and the new expression on his face is much easier to read. It’s a little helpless, and that alone has her rolling her hips just a little slower, just a little harder, to watch that look on his face.

Bridgette can’t help herself, not when he’s looking like  _ that, _ so she leans in and kisses him. He responds instantly, his hand finally moving to touch her. The hand that settles on her waist is warm and gentle, but the hand that sneaks back and down, grabbing and pulling her closer, is anything but. She gasps into his mouth, and he takes his chance, deepening the kiss. Her hips, which had stuttered to a stop, finally begin moving again, almost of their own accord, setting a slow pace which didn’t quite match the relentlessness of their kiss. Felix breaks the kiss to mutter a curse, and Bridgette fondly plays with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You know, this isn’t quite fair,” she finally manages.

“You’re telling me,” he mutters, but she ignores it, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“You can see me, right?”

He can, but he takes the moment to look her over again, eyes lingering for several long moments before they look back up to meet her gaze. “Yes.”

“And you can see yourself. Tell me what’s wrong with this picture.”

He glances down at himself, still fully clothed, and understands the problem.

“You didn’t even take your shoes off,” she complains playfully, and he rolls his eyes and kicks them off, letting them fly somewhere off into the room. “Better…” Her fingers wander down his chest, stopping at the first button of his shirt. She glances up at him, but he’s still annoyingly poker faced. But as she undoes the first button, she can see how his eyes are focused completely on her hands, how they track her every movement, and she smiles. Armed with her new knowledge, she takes her time, trailing her fingers down his chest until his shirt is completely undone. She leans back to admire her work, one hand pushing the shirt off of his shoulders until it falls back, caught around his elbows. The sight of Felix barechested, shirt still half on his arms and pooling behind him on the bed, lips red from kissing, and pupils blown wide, is unexpectedly intense for Bridgette, and as a blush covers her face she wonders if she’ll ever stop ricocheting between confident and shy.

Felix isn’t faring much better, watching her ogle him. He finally pulls the shirt all the way off, and then Bridgette is on him, her hands running down his chest as her lips pull at his. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and soon enough Felix discards whatever reluctance he had and pulls her closer. The first moment of skin to skin contact feels like fire, but he lets himself burn. He finally lets his hands touch her hair, and they tangle in the silky strands with a sense of awe. Felix had never thought of it before, but suddenly he wants to spend all of his time with his hands in Bridgette’s hair. The mewling sound she makes when he cards his hands through it make him think Bridgette might agree.

She moves her hips again, and he bucks against her on instinct. She pulls away from him then, and he’s afraid he’s messed up somehow, but then her hands are fumbling at his belt and she’s off of his lap, but only for as long as it takes to pull his pants down. He helps her, and then they’re both in nothing but their underwear. Bridgette doesn’t take a chance to appreciate the new milestone, because she’s back in his lap, kissing him again within moments. Her kisses are needy and demanding, and then her hips are moving again, and Felix can do nothing but follow her pace. He finally, finally, lets himself go, lets himself fall into her completely, let his senses be filled with the sound of their wet kisses, the feeling of her body against him and  _ on  _ him, the smell of her perfume and her sweat and just the scent of  _ her  _ and he loses himself in the sea of Bridgette surrounding him and he doesn’t even care. His hand reaches up and undoes her bra, and she removes it without even pulling away from him. He hesitates to actually touch them, so she grabs his hands and places them on her herself. His breath hitches at the action, and she just smirks against his lips. He slowly feels her in his hands, massaging gently, and she makes noises of assent to let him know when he’s doing what she wants.

She only pulls back to ask, “Condom?” and as Felix reaches towards his nightstand, she moves to kissing his neck, his collarbone, his chest, every inch of skin she can reach even as he leans over and opens the drawer, returning with a foil packet pinched between his fingers. 

She lays back, then, and smiles at him, beckoning him towards her. He leans over her and kisses her gently, and then reaches down and removes her underwear for the second time this evening, this time with a lot less care. He finally removes his own as well, and Bridgette takes a moment to appreciate the sight. He’s already leaking precum, and considering how long he’s had the erection, she’s not surprised. As he tears the foil and rolls the condom onto himself, she relaxes and lets her eyes lazily roam his body, a content smile sitting on her face. He looks back up, catching her in the middle of the thought, and something in his face softens. 

He’s leaning over her again, looking at her with an expression that she hasn’t seen much on his face: hesitance and worry and care, and she melts. She leans up and kisses him, and then nods at him, and he slowly lines himself up with her entrance. As he slowly slides into her, she closes her eyes against the feeling, but she can feel his gaze still boring into her. He’s slow and careful, but soon he’s completely inside her, and she takes a moment to breathe. She opens her eyes to find his trained on her, and she’s struck with the thought that she will never be able to completely withstand the intensity there. Sometimes she’s annoyed by his lack of expressiveness, but if she had to choose between that and the look he was giving her right now, she would choose his intensity a million times over. After a few more deep breaths, she smiles at him and nods, and he moves.

The feeling shoots through her, curling her toes and making her bite her lip. Her hands find his back and she clings to him, fingers digging in as he thrusts back in. He sets a moderate pace, and soon she’s moving to join him at every thrust. As the feeling in her stomach builds more and more, a low stream of encouragements begins pouring out of her mouth, little noises and words to tell him what’s working and what isn’t, and he responds to her words carefully, the perfectionist he is. 

He begins thrusting faster and captures her mouth in a searing kiss, and she meets his movements with enthusiasm, wrapping her legs around him so he can get closer. He brings one hand up to her chest, massaging lightly and rolling her nipple in his fingers, and she breaks their kiss with a moan. The noise shoots through Felix and finally pushes him over the edge, and he comes with one deep thrust, spilling into her. He keeps moving through his orgasm, and once the haze of stardust clears his mind he brings his fingers down to give attention to her clit. He pulls out and discards the condom, but he doesn’t leave Bridgette hanging for long. 

She’s looking at him with hooded eyes, flush traveling all the way down her chest, and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, but she’s quickly falling down from her high, and he doesn’t want that. He leans in again, one hand on her chest and the other dipping into her folds, and he presses his forehead to hers, watching how everything she’s feeling plays out over her face, how every movement of his long fingers against her causes a sigh or a whine or a quirk of her lips. He crooks his fingers and watches as her eyelids flutter shut in bliss, her lips parting and forming a perfect circle, and then in just moments she’s coming again, her fingers digging into him and her muscles tensing and her voice moaning Felix’s name. She doesn’t even care how wrecked her voice sounds, Bridgette sees stars, feels electricity shoot through her veins, and more importantly, Felix is the one bringing them to her.

When she finally comes down off of her high, Felix is still there, forehead pressed against hers, and he looks at her in a way she’s never seen before, a small smile curling his lips. It’s tiny, but it’s everything she’s ever dreamed of. She smiles up at him, sated and so, so happy, and he pulls her to him, curling around her protectively. His hands find their way into her hair, and he runs his fingers through the strands as she traces meaningless shapes against his chest. She buries her nose in his chest and breathes him in, and he smells like salt and sex and she can’t help the giggle that escapes as her arms surround him again.

As comfortable as she is, she finally manages to speak against his chest. “Felix, we should clean up.”

He curls around her tighter, making an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. “Yes, we should.” He doesn’t move.

“You have to let me go.”

“Absolutely not.”

Bridgette can’t help the satisfaction that she feels at his insistence on holding her, but she knows him well enough to know that he will regret not cleaning up in the morning. “We have to,” she insists.

“Not yet.”

She relents, shifting slightly in his arms and tangling her legs with his. She knows she’s right, of course, but she’s comfortable and happy in his arms, and he certainly seems to prefer it. So instead she settles against him, and quietly reflects on how she seems to fit perfectly against his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to hell, I hope you enjoy your stay.
> 
> Also, I will sell my first born child to anyone who draws a half dressed Felix- as described in this fic or otherwise. Just.... just sayin'.


End file.
